Ray of Light
by jeromevaleska
Summary: Tom is trying to get better but he can barely moves his legs because of an accident in the war, he thinks he's never going to walk again. He starts getting depressed but his nurse, helps to give him hope.
The metal bucket clanked against your long skirt, the red water slopping out and splashing across the floor. Had it not been a normal occurrence, you might have let the sight of bloody water turn your stomach and make you weak in the knees, but this was your life. You dropped the bucket outside with a heavy stud and watched as the water sloshed out and soaked into the snow, turning it a deep crimson color.

Looking away, you stared up into the snowy sky and pushed your nurse's cap away from your face. Your hand slid in the pocket of your stained apron, pulling out the handkerchief you kept there, and dabbed it across your face. There was a lull of incoming new patients but you knew, thanks to the word that came from the medics delivering the wounded from the front lines, that the lull wouldn't last. You lost count of the number of soldiers that had died, cries for their mothers the last words to ever leave their lips, while you stood helplessly by because their injuries were just too much for someone like you – or anyone, really – to handle.

You bit back a tearful sigh and let a few snowflakes scatter across your heated face. Your mind wandered to the soldiers who you knew were dug in on the front lines just seven miles away. You had seen so many cases of trench foot and frostbite over the past few months that you wanted to hunt down those commanders yourself and give them an ear-splitting piece of your mind for not taking better precautions before sending the soldiers out to battle. The lack of concern for those boys was mind-boggling to you.

"Y/N!" the voice traveled out the door, frantic and scared.

"Yes? What is it?" you shoved your handkerchief back into your apron and stepped back inside the infirmary.

The head nurse stood against the door, her face taut with tension. "We just had three soldiers dropped off and the medic said there are five more on the way. There was a shell attack and these men were out on patrol and it's..." she paused to sigh. "It's bad. Come on inside. I need you."

You watched the older nurse disappear down the dark corridor and you quickly followed behind. The moment you stepped back into the infirmary, the metallic smell of blood and burned flesh assaulted your nose. There were three soldiers lying on cots, all of them bleeding and unconscious. As you went to the first one, you assessed his wounds and glanced back up at his face. He had a round face and a small nose and he looked like he wasn't a day over sixteen. You caught the eye of one of the new volunteers who was still green, and said, "Morphine, then clean his wounds. This one doesn't appear to be too serious."

You stepped away from the soldier, moving away quickly to the next cot. Your eyes landed on the man in front of you. His eyes were closed and his handsome face was pale – as pale as you had ever seen another living human be. Dragging your gaze away from the long lashes that laid across his defined cheekbones, you glanced down and your stomach churned. His legs were bleeding heavily, and there was a hole in his right one, the size of your fist.

"Get the surgeon!" you barked loudly. Your eyes darted around the room and you spied the doctor, his white coat streaked with the brownish hue of dried blood. "We need to operate on this one right now!"

The doctor nodded and motioned for two orderlies to move the patient into the operating room. You grabbed a few clean towels and darted into the room, quickly assembling the surgical tools they would use to hopefully save that young soldier's life. The orderlies brought the man in and you found yourself staring at the hole in his leg again. Your eyes traveled over him and you said a silent prayer that maybe this time, one would live. Maybe just maybe, he would pull through.

"Please, just let one pull through," you thought.

You returned to the doctor's side after he pulled back the soldier's shirt and then cut it off, handing him the bottle of ether. Once you administered the drug, you nodded at the surgeon and then cleared your mind of any personal thoughts about this soldier. He told you that he knew who this young man was, that his name was Tom Fairfax, and how he was an ambitious one – a fighter. You just needed him to live. Nothing else mattered.

You were back at the hospital early the next morning. Your shift didn't start until the afternoon but the small room you shared with three other nurses in the back of a kindly old woman's chalet was cramped and cold. You had been at the hospital until nearly midnight the day before because they removed more of the shrapnel from the handsome soldier, and you were there to help. You attended to the other seven soldiers that had been brought in. You considered it a successful night because by the time you went home, only two of them had died from their injuries.

But the surgeon had told you that when he stitched up Tom's wound and wiped the blood from his body that his injuries were serious, and that he would make it but he might not ever be able to walk again. Concern and wonder propelled you back inside the hospital early.

The hospital was calm and quiet when you stepped inside. You hadn't heard any artillery fire in the distance on your way from the chalet to the hospital and you hoped that it meant there was another lull going on. You had been serving at the hospital for over three months now and you were honestly tired of the war. Especially this particular battle was incredibly brutal and never-ending. The older nurse stared at you curiously before she said, "You're far too early, dear. Why are you here already?"

You shrugged as you unbuttoned your coat and hung it on the rack. "I was restless and the house just felt so cramped for some odd reason. I might as well come here where I can at least do some good.

The nurse pursed her lips and nodded before stepping away. You heaved a sigh of relief that you weren't about to get another lecture about overworking yourself. You endured enough of those already.

Making your way through the closely cramped cots, you went to check on the patients. Patting one on the shoulder, he smiled up at you through his bandaged face and reached out to squeeze your fingers. You felt tears prickle your eyes as you squeezed them back before dropping his hand. This young man had lost an eye. It was an injury that ensured he would get to go home, back to his parents and his sweetheart, but he had a long, tough road ahead of him.

Your eyes landed on the volunteer, who was standing quietly on the edge of the cot that held Tom Fairfax. You silently slipped next to the woman and asked softly, "How's he doing?"

She shrugged before she replied, "He made it through the night. He hasn't even tried to awaken yet, though."

Glancing at the woman out of the corner of your eye, you let out a small breath of air. "You should go assist the other nurses, I'm going to check up on him," you told her. Your tone left no room for discussion and she nodded, scurrying away quickly with a sideways glance towards the handsome, unconscious soldier. You stepped closer to him and checked his bandages. You realized that the wound was seeping and that the volunteer had been too busy mooning over the man to even bother to address his needs, you let anger surge through you for just a moment before you went to work.

Removing the bandage, you were pleased to see that the stitches were still holding. You grabbed the supplies from nearby and then cleaned the wound. You cast a glance up at the soldier's face as you applied another bandage to his leg and studied the way his chest moved evenly, his breathing regulated. Relief sunk into you as you noticed that color was returning to his face. No longer was he as pale as death. He was going to make it, without a doubt. That thought filled you with as much joy as you allowed yourself to feel since this horrible, horrible war had started.

With a final glance towards Tom, you headed to the next bed. There were about thirty men in this room and you couldn't spend time focusing on just one, regardless of how attractive that one may be.

It took three days for him to wake up. Three days of you standing at his bedside at every possible free moment, your eyes on his face, your lips parted and with a dreamy look in your eyes. Three days of more soldiers dying in their cots, their families thousands of miles away and no one to properly tell them goodbye as they slipped into lifelessness while you stood helplessly by. By the time Tom opened his eyes, you were weary from the number of injured men that had come through the crumbling doors of the infirmary. You were helping a soldier to bed before one of the nurses shouted, "Y/N! Come here! His eyes are open!"

You tucked your hands into your apron pockets and briskly walked over to the bedside. The soldier was rolling his head back and forth slowly. His eyes drifted open and then closed again, over and over, until they finally opened and held. He turned his head towards you and rasped, "Water."

"Get some water, now!" you ordered. The nurse zipped away and came back with a tin cup full of cold water. She passed the cup over to you and watched as you bent down.

"Mr. Fairfax," you said softly. "I need you to take small sips, okay? No big gulps."

You slid your hand along his back and helped lift him just slightly so that he could drink. He nodded, his eyes bleary, as he slowly sipped from the cup. When he was done, a smile spread across his face and your throat caught. He was far more handsome awake than he had been asleep. Satisfied, he sunk back into his sheets and winced. "What the hell happened to me?"

You handed the cup to the young nurse and answered, "You took shrapnel to your legs, Mr. Fairfax."

"Tom," he said.

"Excuse me?" you queried, unsure of what he was trying to say.

A small smile upturned his lips again as he said, "Call me Tom. S'my name."

You returned his smile and tucked the blankets back around him, "Thank you," his voice weakened as his body tried to give into sleep again.

You dropped your hand to clasp over his before you said, "Get some sleep, Tom."

He nodded groggily before he shut his eyes again, and then he was asleep. You straightened the blankets over his body to make sure he was comfortable. Relieved that he was out of danger and would most likely make it back home, you cast one last glace toward his sleeping face before going about your duties.

You removed your apron at the end of your shift and updating the other nurses about the status of the other soldiers' cases when you noticed Tom was struggling to sit up in his bed. Making your way toward him, you quickly placed your hands around his bicep to help him. He sighed heavily and you adjusted the blankets about his waist, wincing as pain shot through him. "Thanks," he finally wheezed.

"I'll get you some more medication," you reached out to pop open a cap to one of the bottles with pain killers in it. He opened his mouth when you brought one out and once he accepted it, you had him drink it down with some water.

He smiled weakly before he slumped back down on the bed, fluttering his eyes shut before he said, "I feel like hell. Like I've been run over by a tank and then shot."

"You're lucky to be alive. We had to dig quite a bit of metal from your legs," you told him solemnly before you added, "it's really fortunate that they didn't have to be amputated."

His eyes opened and he met your gaze. "You helped operate on me, too?"

You nodded. "We're a front line hospital. We all do everything we can to keep you men alive once you arrived at our doorstep."

He patted the edge of his bed, indicating that he wanted you to sit down. You glanced over your shoulder and once you determined that no one needed your assistance, you complied, perching yourself on the very edge of his cot.

"I owe you one. And as soon as I'm healed and can get back on my feet, I'll find a way to thank you," he told you with a light chuckle.

You fidgeted with the edge of his blanket when you pulled it back up on him, he closed his eyes again and let out a breath. "I've been awake for five minutes and I just wanna sleep again."

"Well then, sleep. I have to get going anyway. I don't want to keep you from your rest. I'll be back tomorrow," you patted his shoulder gently with your hand and found that your fingers were caressing his skin a lot longer than you should have been so you quickly yanked it away, hoping he wouldn't have noticed. But he most certainly did, judging from the curious look in his eye when he shot his head back up at you.

He just nodded, tugging the blanket up around his chest. "Thanks, Nurse..." he paused before he finished, "Nurse what?"

"Y/N," you said before you finished,"Nurse Y/N Y/L/N."

"Nurse Y/N, Y/L/N," he repeated, and it only made your cheeks flush upon the way he said your name. "I like it."

An uncomfortable feeling of longing settled low in your stomach and you stood quickly. "I'll see you tomorrow, Tom. Sleep well."

He gave you a little wave and you watched him close his eyes as sleep overtook him again. Feeling exhausted yourself, you made your way back to your quarters.

You visited him often, always checking up on him to see if he needed medicine or food or your company, whatever it was, you were happy to help. A close bond grew between you two quite faster than you expected, it was like the second you laid eyes on each other, you knew that the other was someone special. You felt your breath catch and your heart pound like it never did before when he was around. You were so relieved he had survived his wounds, it was such a blessing that he was okay, and in your care.

One day when night fell while the other soldiers in the room had fallen asleep, he was sitting up and sipping from the spoon full of broth that you held to his lips. You couldn't help but smile, your cheeks red, as you fed the ailing soldier. His eyes were wide today and you could tell that he was fully awake, his attention completely on you and you alone. You tried to ignore the pang of discomfort that settled in your chest as you fed him more spoonfuls.

You were sitting on the edge of his cot, your eyes drifting to him several times before you looked back down at the bowl in your hand. He waved his hand back and forth in front of you to indicate that he didn't want anymore. He buried his hands in his face, and you instantly set the bowl down, scooting closer before you said, "Tom, what is it?"

He mumbled something under his breath, his voice cracking, and that was when you realized that he was crying. You leaned in to wrap your arms around his torso, pulling him in a tight embrace. He snapped his head up to rest it upon your shoulder, finding comfort in your arms.

"The doctors keep saying they don't know if I'll walk again," he stuttered before he continued, "I can't even get up. At first I didn't believe them, but I was just in denial, thinkin' that I'd be fine, when clearly I'm not. Don't think I'm ever gonna get better," he cursed under his breath.

You hugged him closer, your hands stroking his back with delicate fingers in an attempt to soothe his tense body. You pulled your head away from his shoulder and lifted his chin up with a hand to meet him at eye level.

"You're going to be fine, Tom, you're a fighter. You'll beat this. I know you can," you reassured. "You are going to get better, just keep taking your medicine," you told him, your fingers started tracing aimless patterns upon the skin of his back.

He sighed, long and heavy, "I'm having trouble in believing that," he whispered, turning away from your gaze when you dropped his chin from your hand.

You both stayed sitting there in silence for a long while, it nearly suffocated you before he broke it when he said, "Can you stay by my side a while? Your company is better than any medicine," he admitted, a weak, tired smile playing on his lips.

"Of course, Tom," you returned a soft smile, guiding his body down with your hand placed upon his back but he quickly placed his hand on yours to stop you from continuing so he could do it himself.

"I don't want to be such a burden, please, just let me," he told you, and you nodded your head in answer. He positoned his body to lay on his side, wincing as he felt a sharp pain in both of his legs.

He closed his eyes, breathing hard through his nose while you just sat in silence, watching his chest heave. It was only a couple of minutes but you thought he was already fast asleep before he said, "Y/N, I really did mean it when I said I owed you one," he turned his head to smile at you and then he added, "for saving my life."

"It's what any good nurse would have done," you said softly.

"I know, but there's gotta be something I can do," he started, but you interrupted him to say.

"Just getting better will be enough for me," you told him, your heart skipping a beat when his smile widened, but one of his eyebrows raised as if waiting for you to continue so you did, "and maybe, pick me some nice flowers for me when you can walk again," you finished, your cheeks brightening up as you emitted a short giggle.

"Flowers, hm? I'll be sure to remember that," he said as if in thought, and then suddenly he reached his hand out to you so you inched your body closer.

When your hand was in close proximity with his, he held onto it with a firm grip, his fingers intertwined with yours as he brought it close to his face to leave a gentle kiss upon the back of your hand. You bit your lower lip nervously and scanned the room quickly to check if any of the soldiers had seen what happened but they were all fast asleep.

"Promise me," you spoke up with a slight stutter in your voice, and he nodded his head, understanding what you meant.

"I promise," he whispered as he pressed another kiss to your hand. You locked your gaze with his, your body leaning closer to his without giving it much thought, careful not to press your weight down on his lower half when you did. "You're a ray of light here, Y/N, I don't know what I'd do without you," he admitted, "You're so," he paused before he gathered the courage to finish, "beautiful."

You leaned closer as your lips parted to release the smallest of sighs. You decided to take a chance, feeling the mixtures of hunger and desire control you, and you tilted your head to the side until his soft mouth brushed against yours, gentle and fleeting. The kiss lulled him back, and he closed his eyes, relishing the sweetness of your warm lips move against his with a small suction that lifted his upper lip almost to the point of his nose.

You reached out to clutch his broad shoulders, fingers digging into muscle, trying to hold on to him as he dipped his tongue in your mouth, plunging deep.

You broke away for a breather, your skin flushed with heat after the passionate kiss that you had been longing for since he woke up. He gazed at you through heavily lidded eyes before he rushed back in to close the gap between your lips. You wrapped your arms around him as you pressed your chest upon his, your heart beating wildly as you settled your fingers over his auburn locks of hair, twirling the strands tucked behind his ears.

He rested his forehead against yours, sliding his lips over your mouth as he devoured you with a feverish interlock. A sound of contentment swept down your throat, and made your veins prickle with ice. You licked, suckled, and kissed until you finally pulled back only to be greeted with his eyes glassy with acceptance and trust.

You shot him a warm smile before you rested your head upon the curve of his shoulder. "You're going to beat this, Tom," you reminded him in a whisper.

"I know," he replied with a small crack in his voice, his hand bringing you in close to the warmth of his body.

The next day, you were asked to take care of the men in the second floor. Tom was in the first floor of the infirmary so that meant you wouldn't be able to see him for a while. He was cared for by other nurses so that was what mattered, though you couldn't help but think of him every day, and how you longed to see him, to kiss him again. The men in the second floor were in critical condition, and they needed your supervision. You asked the other nurses about him while you could, and they told you that his condition was improving, though he was having much trouble at times. You just wanted to see him for yourself, but you knew that you couldn't, not until you took care of your duties on the second floor.

You didn't see Tom for a week.

Then one morning when you were dressing yourself after a warm bath, there was a soft tap on your door. You figured it was one of the nurses going to ask for your assistance but when you opened the door, you found that it was Tom. You gasped in surprise when you saw him standing, a hand behind his back, and you wondered what he was holding.

"Tom!" you exclaimed as tears gathered at the corners of your eyes, but then you tried to compose yourself despite the rapid beating of your heart, smiling wide as you thought back to when you first met him to now, how much progress he made, and how you wished you could have seen it day by day. It was a miraculous recovery.

"Hey," he greeted you with a big smile before he continued, "those stairs were my main obstacle so I tried to get better just so I could get you these lovely flowers like I promised," he revealed what he was hiding behind his back so that it was in front of him, a beautiful and vibrant bouquet of flowers came into view, your eyes filling with awe. "I cut the flowers myself, now that I can walk again," he chuckled, that boyishly charming chuckle that you found that you loved so much.

"Oh Tom, they're beautiful," you said fondly, a wide smile playing on your lips, your eyes observing every flower in the bouquet.

"This one is a carnation, the red ones mean admiration," he explained, pointing his finger at each one as he spoke, "forget-me-not for memories, dragon root for ardor, oak leaf for bravery," you touched each one gently as he continued,

"Yellow tulips means there's sunshine in your smile," he said, his heart racing. You graced him with a smile that put sunshine to shame and he nervously touched a small pine branch. "Pine is for hope."

You watched him curiously as he took another deep, wavering breath, and he was sure that his ears were bright red. He shakily took out the last two flowers which were entwined together with a white ribbon. You accepted them, running a finger lightly over the blooms and looking at him expectantly.

"Erm, white violets mean, they mean let's take a chance on happiness," he described, his breath catching as he went on, "and the red rose means-" he paused, and you watched him carefully, waiting patiently for him to finish, "it means love, I love you," he admitted, his bright smile making his confession all the more heartwarming, your eyes growing wider.

You set the flowers down and in an instant you reached in to kiss him thoroughly, deeply, and achingly slow like you had been dreaming of for days. Your eyes twinkled, shining bright as they became misty from the hot tears.

"I love you too, Tom," you learned in close to his ear to whisper those promising words.

And that was when you two were able to make love. He felt his heart flutter upon the tearful smile on your face that was a finer gift than the healing of his wounds. There were no words to describe how elated he was that he could move his legs and please you in a way he couldn't before, given that they still ached a little, but he found that it was worth it if he got to be with you.

And with relief, joy, and stunned disbelief all spinning in his chest and with you sprawled out on top of him, he smiles.


End file.
